


Swine Flu

by CrystalOak



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Common Cold, Cute, Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, Rare Pairings, Short & Sweet, Sickfic, hamnoir - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 04:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17338607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalOak/pseuds/CrystalOak
Summary: Ham is sick as a dog, and Noir has been given the difficult task of nursing him back to health.





	Swine Flu

Peter Benjamin Parker, also known as Spider-Man (or Noir, by his fellow spider people), worked as a Private Eye in his violent universe, taking on tasks that could be deemed morally ambiguous, at best. The man was extremely capable and skilled in many fields, not all he was exactly proud of. Faced with his own judgments surrounding his actions as Spider-Man, often questioning whether or not he could truly call himself a “hero”, and dealing with misery and death on a daily basis, it was easy to say that Noir had a bit of a difficult life. 

Spider-Ham was the hero of his universe, a reality filled with anthropomorphic animals and outrageous, “Looney Tunes” physics. When Ham wasn’t taking advantage of the wacky laws of his world to beat up baddies, he worked under the name of Peter Porker as a photographer for _The Daily Beagle_ , a local pig-based newspaper. Ham had been working at his two jobs, his two lives, for decades now. You would think that in that lengthy period of time, the pig would’ve gotten sick at _least_ once. That he would at _least_ know how to deal with his own illnesses on the rare occasion that one would plague him. 

Well, that’s what Noir was there for. 

Taking care of a sick pig should have been beyond easy for the monochrome detective. He had handled everything from saving dames from crime lords to protecting his beloved aunt from the Vulture. And yet, he found himself re-entering his friend’s bedroom for the 5th time that morning, scowling down at an unmasked Peter Porker attempting desperately to don his spider suit. 

“Ham.” Noir said firmly, causing the struggling pig in the center of the room to jump slightly. 

“Oh, hey pal…!” Ham tried to turn himself around to face Noir in his doorway, but only tangled himself further in the cloth, “Ya need somethin’?” The pig’s voice was slurred and scratchy, making Noir feel a pang of something unpleasant in his heart. 

Ham had been given (with much difficulty) cold medicine just an hour ago. It was intended to make the sick pick fall fast asleep, and yet… 

Needless to say, he wasn’t thinking straight. 

“Go back to bed, Ham...” Noir sighed, picking his friend up and gently making an attempt at removing the pig’s suit from between the comically impossible knot it seemed to be tied in with his legs. Noir knew that in his world, if someone’s legs were bent into a bowtie like that, they’d have a few more problems then simply dislodging themselves from a tangle of fabric, but in this confusing dimension, Noir really had no right to question anything. 

“Oh, yeah yeah, don’t worry about that.” Ham glanced down at the jumble of flesh and fabric before him, and magically unraveled his legs in a whirl of pink, red and blue. 

“Just- just lemme try that again…” Ham reached for the suit once more, before Noir quickly snatched it away. 

“You need to rest. I’ve told you that many, _many_ times this morning.” Noir scolded, staring down at the pouting pig below him. For just a second, Noir’s face softened at the sight of Ham’s disappointed expression. 

“I told you, Petesey, I’m doin’ _fine._ ” In an instant, despite his ill, drugged state, Ham had taken advantage of Noir’s split-second weakness and whizzed over to his shoulder, snatching the suit from him once again. 

Noir watched with exhaustion, worry, and… something else as the pig jumped to the floor, stumbling a bit as he landed, and once again fumbled with the suit in his arms. This time he first focused on pulling the mask over his head. Instead of pulling the bottom down, however, he only continued pulling the top, which made the mask only become tighter over the top of his head without actually coming downwards to cover the rest of his face. No to mention, he had it on backwards. 

In one swift movement, Noir pulled the mask from Ham’s head, along with the rest of his suit, and hurriedly stuffed it into his jacket. Without missing a beat, he picked Ham up and placed him under his arm, carrying the lightly struggling pig back to his oblong bed. 

He set Ham down, trying not to be too forceful as he held the weak pig against the mattress and pulled a blanket over him. 

“Please, Ham, just…” Noir ran a hand down his masked face, “Just stay in bed. You’re sick as a dog right now, and you _know_ you gotta rest to recover. Don’t be a bunny.” 

“Are you going nuts, casanova? I’m obviously a pig!” Ham followed his own bad joke with a fit of laughter that was littered with coughs and wheezing. 

Noir frowned at Ham’s struggle, and eventually placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to… Comfort him? Noir really didn’t know. 

“Really, I’m totally alright…” Ham sat up, and his smile faded to a troubled look, “I haven’t got sick all this time, so-” he coughed, “why start now?” 

“C’mon, pal, even heroes gotta catch a cold every now and again.” 

“That’s _real_ funny comin’ from you. You told me yourself that you don’t take days off.” 

“That’s ‘cause I _can’t_ , Ham. Luckily for you,” Noir pushed Ham back down into the covers, “You’ve got me here on lookout in case anything happens.” 

Ham seemed to consider this for a second, before relaxing his features and sinking down further in his oversized and certainly overstuffed pillow. 

“You… You really mean that, Petesey?” 

“Yeah, I sure do.” Noir patted Ham’s head, earning a soft smile from the nearly-sleeping pig. It seemed the meds were finally working their magic. 

Noir stood to leave the room, relieved that his friend was _finally_ surrendering to sleep. However, before his legs even left the bed, he felt a light tug on his coat sleeve. 

“Peter…” Ham whispered, sending a mysterious chill down Noir’s spine. 

“Yeah- Yeah Ham?” Noir shook away the feeling, not wishing to dwell on it for too long. 

“Can you… Can you stay in here?” His eyes were now completely closed, and his chest rose and fell in a slow, steady pattern while he drifted off. 

Noir couldn’t help but stare at his friend’s peaceful expression, feeling a bit of heat rush to his cheeks. He knew Ham wouldn’t notice it anyway, but he couldn’t help but feel thankful for the presence of his mask. 

 

“Of course.”


End file.
